Via Ad Recuperationem
by Mandalore the Illiterate
Summary: To say Yang Xiao Long was at a low point in her life was like saying that water was wet. Her home away from home was destroyed, her team was shattered, and her body was crippled. The girl deserves time to recover after her ordeal... But she won't recover in her current state. The road to recovery is best traveled with others. Warhound Two-Five, it's time to come out of retirement.
1. Ruff Days Ahead

The island of Patch was awash with activity the past few weeks, ever since the fall of Beacon. Refugees continued to pour in by the boatload. Huntsmen and huntresses flocked towards the town hall, which served as a forward operating base. Crime rates skyrocketed as conditions worsened, and tensions rose between the local populous and the refugees. The air was heavy with fear and discontent.

But in the house off the beaten path, the mood was less tense than it was somber. The two story home looked like the typical holiday home, bright and colorful, as if the doors would open themselves up to anyone who would approach. And yet, one could sense that something felt… wrong, about the home. That there was a sense that something was missing. Indeed, something was missing from the idyllic home.

But there was nothing that could be done to rectify this absence. So the inhabitants the home continued to live their lives, albeit sullenly and without the usual energy that drove them beforehand.

And so, fate saw to it that Yang Xiao Long sat in her bed once more, a look of absolute indifference on her face as she absentmindedly stirred the dish of alphabet soup her father had prepared for her with her remaining hand. The spoon moved in clumsy circles, and often caught along the radius of the bowl, or was dragged along the bottom forcefully.

"So… what's it say?" A voice asked.

"What's what say?" Yang said, not even taking her eyes off her meal to look at the source of the voice.

"The soup. It's alphabet, isn't it?"

Yang scrunched her eyes in confusion. What kind of person asks about the type of soup another is eating?

"So what if it is? It's just soup." She turned to look at her fellow conversationalist. In her window still squatted a man, his lower face obscured by a black facemask, which made seeing his facial features impossible, and greying hair long enough to start falling over his thick, black eyebrows and squinted-shut eyes, which curved rather pleasantly, as if their owner were smiling. Around his neck was woolen, string necklace, with a cross between an X and a P which hung off the end. The man was dressed in a loose, light grey hoodie, the sleeves far too puffed up to match their owner's actual size, which was further illustrated by the slender fit of the man's dark, polyfiber gloves, and cargo pants of a darker shade. Thankfully, the man did not appear to be armed. Yang narrowed her eyes, and just for a moment the usual lilac colored irises flashed red.

"Ah, but it's fun soup. Ordinary soup merely fulfills a person's digestive needs. But with alphabet soup, you satisfy a craving for not only sustenance, but also for creativity. I should know." The man threw a thumb towards himself. "I buy it for my daughter all the time, and she loves it. So much so that its hard to buy a different type of soup." The man started to scratch his chin in contemplation. "I must admit, having the same thing over and over again can be real tiring, which really says a lot coming from me." The man ended his musings with a snap of his gloved fingers.

"Ah, how rude of me to begin a conversation without introducing myself. I am… " The man began to introduce himself, but seemed to hesitate. He scratched the back of his head.

"Uh… is there something wrong?" Yang asked, rather put off by the… floaty nature of her uninvited guest. Aforementioned guest waved off her concern.

"No, no. I just… " the man scrunched his face in concentration, and Yang could see the stress wrinkles that blemished the otherwise healthy skin around the man's eyes. Then, the soldier seemed to stop straining, and without opening his eyes, looked towards Yang.

"I'll give you a Gee and a Bee."

"Wha-"

"You can use that to call me whatever you want to. But that's all I'm giving you, so think carefully, alright?"

Yang was going to ask the masked man something, but before she could get a word out, the man leaned back and fell from the open window. She could do nothing but look at the open window with confusion and a growing sense of dread. After a few minutes of open mouth gaping, she put her bowl of soup to the side, walked over to her window, and peered down.

There were no footprints leading to and from her house. Yang felt a shiver go down her spine, so she shut the window and laid back on her bed. She had a feeling that her mysterious visitor would return.


	2. Pawing for Details

The next day proved her hunch to be correct, when the masked man appeared in her room after she had taken a moment to relieve herself. The man, now equipped with a large pair of boom-mic equipped headphones around his neck, a large silver pack on his back, and a dirty brown cloak strapped to his shoulder, along with the clothes he had worn the previous day, turned his head towards the owner of the room and bobbed his head in acknowledgement. Yang looked toward her window. Exactly as she left it. Closed, sealed shut, and without a hint of tampering.

"Howdy! I trust that your trip to the restroom went well enough?"

Once again, who asks these sort of questions? Yang could only respond as best as she could, given the circumstances.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." She said, rather uncomfortable at the stranger's presence. The man didn't seem to detect the uneasy aura his presence seemed to create, as he simply gave an 'OK' sign in response. Yang walked toward her bed and sat down, though the soft material of the bed provided no comfort whatsoever. She stared at her guest in silence for some time, who seemed content with standing at the foot of her bed, hands held behind his back. Then, the man spoke up.

"So… what did you come up with?"

"What?"

"Why, my name of course." The man laughed, as if he was nonplussed that Yang had forgotten the task that he had assigned to her just yesterday.

"Oh, right." Yang muttered. She thought long and hard about what she would call the masked intruder. All five seconds that it took.

"How about… 'Gabe'?" She suggested, rather hesitantly at that.

"...Gabe…? " the man repeated slowly, like a sommelier tasting a new bottle of wine, he allowed the sound the name to enrapture his ears. Tentatively, he repeated the name, as if to accustom his tongue, his lips, and his vocal cords to such a foreign pattern.

"Gabe… " his voice held much more certainty that time around than before. Just as Yang was going to question man, his eyes, as closed as they were before, curved into outwards crescents.

"I like it!" The masked man exclaimed rather quietly. "It's short, and it sounds rather nice." He gave a thumbs up. "Well done."

Yang didn't seem too sure how to react to the praise. So she did what she did best, go with the flow of things.

"...Thanks."

So for some time, there was a period of uncomfortable silence, until Yang decided to speak up.

"Hey, uh… Gabe?"

"Hmm?"

"Why… why are you here?"

Gabe clapped his hands together, though his gloves muffled the impact as to not cause an excessive amount of noise.

"Ah, I'm glad you got around to asking, finally!"

Gabe motioned his head towards her desk.

"Mind if I sit down for a little? This might take some time to explain."

"Sure, make yourself comfy." Yang shrugged her shoulders.

"Thank you." Gabe said as he walked over towards the desk. The man grabbed the wooden chair that sat under her desk and turned it to the side. Slowly, the man eased himself onto the chair, while at the same time reaching across his back. Instinctively, Yang tensed up, her hand curled into a fist and her hair smoldering just slightly. Thankfully, however, it seemed the man simply made to grab for the rather boxy-looking pack that rested upon his shoulders. After his initial task was completed, the man rested the pack on his legs and began to rummage through.

"So you see, I'm a man of many different skills, and quite so often I get called in to a great multitude of tasks to accomplish. That being said, my first order of business in your delightful little home was to return something of worth. Ah, there we are!" The masked man withdrew his arm, and Yang could hardly believe her eyes. Gabe held it out for the young woman to grab.

"What… how did you… ?"

Gabe shook his head, the long strands of his hair bobbed to and fro from the motion.

"It wasn't very easy. I had to crawl through the rubble of Beacon's old halls, to avoid alerting the growing horde of Grimm in the area… also had to deal with some looters too. Nuts, the whole lot of them… Anyway, found the little beauty under the wreckage of the cafeteria."

Yang inspected her old weapon. The golden shot-gauntlet, the missing piece of the pair, looked as pristine in her hands as it did when she last used them. As quickly as she could with one hand, she began to field strip her weapon. What she found astounded her. The feeding mechanism, though devoid of buckshot, showed no sign of damage. The barrel had no external or internal deformities along the entirety of its length, not even the marigold finish she had painted all those years ago seemed to have suffered a scratch.

"I have to say, that weapon of yours is a pretty solid piece of work. Compact, few moving parts, easy to reload, and still aesthetically pleasing? Heh, the kids at Atlas would kill to have half the talent that went into the creation of your weapon."

After a few more moments of inspecting the missing half of her weapon, Yang looked up at Gabe and fixed him a smile. An actual, genuine smile.

"Thanks."

A pleased hum rumbled from Gabe's throat.

"Think nothing of it."

Unfortunately, the smile slowly vanished, and Yang looked at her newly retrieved weapon with a look of pained reminiscence.

After all, she couldn't exactly use her prized gauntlets as she had once done before.

"May I take a look?"

Yang, startled from her thoughts, looked up and saw that her guest had relocated himself to the right side of her bed.

"Take a look at what?" Yang asked, really unnerved that Gabe had managed to move without drawing notice to himself at all.

"Your arm."

Her right arm, despite having long healed up from when that man had sliced it useless with a single stroke of his sword, was wrapped up in clean bandages around the stump. Yang grasped her shoulder with her remaining hand, uncomfortable at the reminder of her current state. Gabe sighed at her reluctance.

"Yang…" He reached out toward her arm, but Yang lashed out with her hand.

"How do you know my name!? Who are you, really? And why are you here!?" Yang spat out, her hair enlightened like a flare, and her eyes a piercing blood red. The temperature of the room spiked dramatically. Gabe held his hands up defensively, but what could be seen on his face could only be described as serenity. He took a deep breath, before he began to speak.

"I know your name, Yang, because I knew someone very close to you." The man spoke evenly. He slowly brought his hands back down to his lap. "In fact, they're the reason why I'm here in the first place." Yang's eyes widened, and the crimson red irises, so full of rage, reverted to their usual lilac. Gabe gave another eye smile. "I've come to learn many things in my short life, but one of the most important things I've learned is that your family are those who care about you the most in this world, bound not by blood or name, but by love. And you, miss Xiao Long… you have a very loving family, who would do anything to keep you happy. Such a prized possession in this world is hard to come by, especially in this day and age." The man pressed a hand to his heart.

"And please! Just call me Gabe."

Yang, unsure if the man was telling the truth about his self-proclaimed relationship with a member of her family, grabbed him by the collar and, with some difficulty, pulled him inches away from her own face.

"Who. Do. You. Know?"

"You have their eyes."

And just like that, her grip on his on collar slackened, and her hand fell against the bed like dead weight. She stared at the man's closed eyelids.

"You might have the name of your father, but I can always recognize Branwen when I see one."

Gabe chuckled at a funny thought, before he voiced it out loud.

"Thankfully, though; you smell much better than one."

Yang couldn't help but laugh at the quip towards her uncle. She remembered all the times her dad argued with her uncle to take a shower and brush his teeth every time they came home. Doing nothing but teaching kids how to use custom designed weapons and drinking from his flask or at the bar tends to make a guy's odor less than appealing.

Then a thought came to her.

"Hey, Gabe?" The man tilted his head to the side. "Do you know a woman named Raven Branwen?" His eye smile became slightly strained, but Gabe maintained his composure.

"Ah… yes. I do." Gabe confirmed, rather unenthusiastically at that, but confirmed nonetheless.

"Really!?"

"Indeed… she was a rather… quiet woman. Very intense. Faintly smelled of freshly cut dust crystals too." Gabe saw the look of curiosity in his listener's eyes, so he shook his head. "But I'm afraid the last time I saw her was about two years ago."

"Oh… "

Gabe pinched the top of his nose, as if to recall a previous conversation, before he spoke.

"Yang… " the man sighed out, as if he was going to regret his next few words. "If it makes you feel any better, I never knew my parents. Still don't." He grasped his pack with two fingers, slowly moving his thumb in circles, his polyfiber gloves clung to the hard material of the pack as he continued to speak. "I was raised by an old hermit, far past the fringes of civilization. Don't remember what he sounded like. What I do remember, though, were the skills he passed onto me. Skills that no child should ever have to take up." He looked back up at Yang, his eyes still closed shut, eyelids forming into neutral lines. "I'm not saying that you should stop trying to find her. Just… don't let it ruin what you already have. You only get one past."

Yang frowned after the man finished speaking, her eyes deep in thought over the meaning of his words. Then, Gabe's eyelids curved once more, and he shook his head and gave a little laugh.

"Well, now you've got me giving life advice… This assignment keeps getting more interesting by the minute… Speaking of minutes, I just remembered what sparked this conversation." He held out a gloved hand towards Yang's right arm. "Do you mind if I see your arm? I promise I'll give it back afterwards."

Yang looked at the man strangely, as if her mind was conflicted on what emotion to display, but complied nonetheless. Gabe wasted no time in unraveling the bandages from the stump, lightly whistling a jaunty tune as he worked. In short times, the bandages had come off.

"And… done… "

Gabe reached out towards her arm, which was pale and smooth skinned from the lack of exposure, but stopped right as his fingers were about to brush against it. Yang looked at Gabe, who appeared somewhat flustered for whatever reason.

"I, ah… apologize." The man withdrew his hand and held it with the other. "I asked to look at your arm, not touch it."

Yang raised an eyebrow. This guy was a piece of work.

"You can touch it if you want." She said, though she didn't seem too confident in her decision. Gabe looked at her, his eyelids slightly drooped in emotional conflict, before he took a deep breath and nodded. He reached out with his right hand, and Yang gave a sharp gasp at the sudden shock that occurred when their limbs had made contact. But after the initial reaction, Yang couldn't help but notice the wonderful sensation that Gabe was giving off as his fingers traced around her stump. It was as if every muscle underneath the man's grasp was tensed up by a burst of energy coursing from his hand, before being released, allowing blood to flow in and revitalize the affected area. Then, she felt it. She tried curling her wrist inward, then tried wiggling the fingers. And she swore she felt them moving in response. Unfortunately, just as quickly as the experience started, it ended when Gabe released his hold on the stump. Yang shakily released the breath she did not know she held in.

"Hmm. Your arm seems to have healed up quite well, all things considered." The man began, not making comment on the subtle blush on Yang's face as a result of his assessment. "Your nerves seem to respond to electric stimuli as properly as would those from an unsevered arm. This should make things easier."

Gabe turned and looked at Yang, his face that of absolute seriousness.

"You felt it didn't you? Your arm, your hand. Your fingers. It was like they were always there, wasn't it?"

"How… how did you do that?"

Gabe raised his left hand, and Yang watched as sparks danced around his fingers, crackling and popping as the air around the man's hand heated up from electronic stimulation.

"I work with prosthetics. Been doing so for as long as I can remember. Comes in handy when you live in the most militarized kingdom in the world."

The dancing sparks on Gabe's hand began to coalesce towards the center of his palm. Gabe slowly closed his hand around the swarm of energy, and Yang jumped when electricity seemed to visibly pulse throughout his body. Gabe shivered, before he continued.

"Now you know why I'm here, don't you?"

Yang nodded silently. Gabe got up from his chair and slipped his pack back onto its previous resting place. He reached into his front pants pocket and withdrew a small metallic card. He held it for Yang to grab, which she did in a very subdued manner. Yang wasted no time in inspecting the small metal card. On its surface was an engraved symbol, two ornate swords faced back to back around a round cog. Underneath the symbol, words were stamped into the card, They included contact information and an address to a clinic in Atlas, but two lines distinguished themselves from the rest.

 _Dr. Gepetto Polendina, M.D. MSCS, MECE,_

 _Biomechanical Engineer, Physician, Head Prosthetist_

Yang's eyes widened in recognition.

"Penny… " she breathed out.

Gabe gave a deep outtake of air, before he spoke up, his voice almost alien to what he previously sounded like.

"Call the good doctor when you think that you're ready. Might want to tell your dad too." The man advised as he walked towards the door and slowly opened it. He placed his hands in his hoodie's pockets.

"But I have to warn you, Yang. More people are getting hurt as the clock ticks by. Not to mention the fact that the kingdoms are at each other's' throats after that mess during Vytal. So word of advice; the further you wait to get going, the harder it's going to be getting through the door. So don't take too long, miss Xiao Long… we wouldn't want the wrong people to get hurt and be too late to do anything about it, would we?"

Gabe tossed his hood up, and after taking one step forward, threw up a peace sign.

"Be seeing ya."

With that, he walked out the door, nary making a sound as he left Yang to her thoughts, her eyes glued to the card in her hand.

* * *

 ***Welp, that's that chapter done. If you have an critiques or just want to talk, leave a review. Seriously though, I love input. Type a few words about how you feel about Gabe and this story so far: what mistakes did I make, what can I improve? Seriously, tear my cheeks to shreds, rip me from limb to limb.** **HURT ME MORE!** **...Til next time.***


	3. Howling for Tomorrow

And so that day ended, with Yang staring out towards the moon, its shattered face reflecting the sundered peace of her world. She thought on the choice presented to her. It wasn't a chance to go back to the way her life once was. The destruction of Beacon saw to that, and ushered in a new world. For many living in this new world, it consisted of fear and uncertainty not seen since the days of the Color Wars. For Yang, however, her new world consisted of nothing but several parts of her house. Every day for the past month, Yang found herself in a routine of waking up, lying in bed, eating cold meals, and watching the snow slowly drift down to earth. But what else was she supposed to do?

Then her enigmatic visitor appeared one fateful day, and had presented her with an offer she could hardly refuse.

If Gabe was to be believed, there was a clinic in Atlas which specialized in prosthetic limbs, headed by the man who created Penny. Yang's fingers curled as she reminisced of the brief time she had known the eccentric, yet ultimately well-meaning android whom her sister had befriended not too long ago. Of the horrific outcome of her globally broadcasted fight just a month earlier.

Penny hadn't deserved what happened to her that day. Neither did Pyrrha.

She remembered that woman's voice after the broadcast was hijacked. How she decried General Ironwood for creating an artificial life in the hopes of protecting his kingdom. Of how Ozpin's star pupil was responsible for the brutal death of her opponent. Of how the brave huntsmen and huntresses had supposedly failed to protect Vale during the Breach.

Yang scowled, and the pigment of her irises slowly shifted into a scarlet shade.

People bought into her deception wholesale. Not like they knew any better, perhaps. But Yang did.

She _knew_ Penny. She was much more than some machine made to look human and fight monsters.

She _knew_ Pyrrha. She was far too noble to use her semblance with the brutally as she had done that night.

She was there when the Breach happened, and she _knew_ how it happened in the first place.

But it didn't matter what she knew. The world turned its collective back on all of them, choosing instead to believe the narrative of a madwoman hell bent on destroying the only things that stood between civilization and the black tide of the Grimm.

For a split second, Yang saw red, and before she could even register the pain of her bare knuckles impacting a hard surface or the sound of her own scream, Yang had managed to put a hole in her bedroom's wall with a fiery 's hand throbbed from the dull pain the impact caused, so she looked down at her hand, and saw that her knuckles cut and bloodied. She shook her head and walked toward the bathroom. Her father had always emphasized the lesson of never hitting anything with bare knuckles. After all, Aura could only do so much to protect unarmoured flesh before the butcher's work began.

Yang winced as the cold water struck her lacerated hand. Her father, how was she supposed to explain her predicament to her father? Ever since Beacon had fallen, he had kept her under lock and key like a prized piece of artwork at the most heavily defended museum in all of Remnant. This, coupled with the ever present stress upon the shoulders of all who take up the mantle of huntsman, along with the escalating refugee crisis on the island, had only served to drive her father to fall into the single mindedness that he had slowly been climbing out of from just recently. Yang looked at the roll of gauze in her hand and shook her head.

She had a lot of thinking to do that night.

* * *

Walking down the stairs had never caused so much dread as it did now. Each time her uncovered feet made contact with the wooden floor, she felt the sharp touch of the cold wooden floor stab into her soles like the vengeful knives of a hundred tyrant slayers. It seemed that for every step she took, her goal seemed to drift further and further away. And yet, she knew she couldn't stop now. She had made her decision, and there was no going back. Eventually, she had made it down the stairs and turned toward the living room, where the loud sound of snoring could be heard. As she rounded the corner, she spotted her father, splayed across the couch, the day's issue of the newspaper spread over his face like a veil. She walked over to him and nudged his shoulder. She sighed at the lack of a reaction. Dead asleep, so it seemed. So she let him rest, and instead she took a seat on a nearby chair. After several minutes of watching her father sleep, she felt her eyelids droop, and she allowed sleep to carry her off into the plane of consciousness.

The first thing she did when wake up was to throw the hardest straight jab at her assailant. The second thing she did was apologize profusely to her father, who now sported a nasty welt on his face, courtesy of his daughter's left hand.

"It's alright, Yang. I've taken worse before." Her father claimed as he held an ice pack against his newly gained shiner. Despite his injury, Yang could see that something was concerning him, and it wasn't his injury or fatigued state. She curled her fingers over the armrest.

"But that doesn't matter right now. You're up! Are you feeling alright? What happened to your hand?"

Yang looked down at her feet, before she shrugged her shoulders.

"I was thinking about the last few weeks. I got kind of angry at some things." A small, sheepish grin formed on her lips. "I guess I got a little… out of hand."

Despite himself, her father couldn't help but chuckle at the horrible pun.

"Heh, well, guess tempers slip through our fingers now and then." His smile faded slightly after his stilted exclamation. "So uh… Did you come down here to get something? I can go get it for you."

Yang looked up, and she forced herself to stare her father down.

"Dad… we need to talk."

His smile vanished completely at this point.

"What… talk about what?"

Yang bit her lip, the increasingly panicked look on her father's face faltering her resolve. But she continued onward.

"I can't stay here anymore."

"What!? Yang, listen-"

"No dad, you listen!" Yang stood up, her lilac eyes burning with newfound energy. "For the past month I've done nothing but sit in bed all day, eat soup, and daydream." She walked over to the window, her gaze set toward the setting sun past the horizon. "Ever since I lost my arm, it felt like the whole entire world was falling apart. Blake ran away without a word. Weiss was snatched by her father. Ruby went off to be a hero in Mistral… And there was nothing I could do about any of it… But then I started to realize something." Her remaining hand curled into an ever constricting fist. "I felt like I couldn't do anything because I convinced myself that I couldn't do anything. I beat myself into a corner, told myself that getting disarmed means that I'm out of the fight." Yang allowed herself a small smile at her choice of words. "But now… Now I'm done sitting around wishing that yesterday could have been better. Now… I'm taking the future into my own hand. No more moping around. I want the truth. I want justice. I want my life back, my team, my sister."

She turned around, her lilac eyes meeting his deep blues.

"But I can't do it cooped up in here, dad. …I have to go."

Her father bowed his head, visibly conflicted by his daughter's reasoning.

"So you think you're ready to get back out there then, huh?" he said, his voice drained of any energy or enthusiasm it might have contained before. Yang hated seeing her father so defeated looking, but she would not give up now. She nodded.

"I do."

He slowly craned his head into his waiting hands, his fingers softly gripping the ridges of his brows as he sighed tiredly, his shoulders sagging as the exhalation left the man's lungs. The uncomfortable silence briefly returned to deafen the room with its presence, only to banished by the quiet proclamation by the older blonde.

"Okay."

Yang looked at her father, still cradling his face with his hands, dumbstruck by his answer. She struggled to find words to speak with. She found her voice after a moment's recovery.

"What?"

Her father scoffed into his palms and peeked out from the bars of his fingers.

"You're right. I can't keep you here, Yang." Her father leaned back, and he looked out at the window, towards the deluge of earthbound snow that never seemed to end outside.

"Now, don't get me wrong," He said as he continued to take in the sight of winter falling upon Patch, his blue eyes seemingly devoid of any energy it might held minutes ago. "The minute I saw your sister lying unconscious in Qrow's arms and you laying in the triage center, your arm wrapped in bloody bandages… I wanted nothing more than to tuck you both into bed, lock up the doors, then build an entire fortress so nothing could hurt you two ever again. But ever since your sister left for Mistral… I knew it was only a matter of time before you'd head off, yourself. I had a whole spiel ready and everything too!" He laughed, albeit rather halfheartedly. Then his eyes shifted and locked onto Yang.

"But the moment you started that little speech of yours, when I saw that look in your eyes… I knew at that point that there was nothing I could say. Heh, really, you're just like your mother." He said, a fond smile eased its way onto his face.

Yang, despite being dumbstruck by her father's words, found it in her to ask

"Which one?"

Taiyang smiled.

"Both."

Yang sniffled, and she let out a tired laugh.

"Dang it Dad, I thought I was gonna end up tearing up a bit, but not like this."

Her father stood up from his seat and spread his arms to their full extent at his sides, and a goofy smile, though his eyes glimmered in a way that showed that he himself wasn't unaffected

"Well, better this way than another, huh? C'mere."

Yang obliged her father's request, and the two shared a tender moment in each other's' embrace. With a final, gentle pat, her father broke the embrace and held her at arm's length, a bright grin on his face.

"So… when are we headed out?"

She blinked.

"Wait, what?"

* * *

"I still can't believe you're coming with me to Atlas!" Yang muttered, a small cloud of vapour billowing from her mouth as the warmth of her breath clashed with the freezing air of the winter morning as the two walked down the snow caked road towards the town center, travel packs resting on their shoulders. Yang focused on the road ahead, ignoring the pointed stares and loud conversations aimed specifically at her by mainly refugees. Her father's own glares aided in warding off the rather unwanted attention.

"Hey, can you blame a guy for being a little worried for his daughter?" Taiyang defended himself, before fixing her with an accusing look himself.

"The fact that you got this tip from some random stranger who broke into our house really doesn't help your case either." Taiyang admonished, to which Yang looked away, her lips pouted and her face flushed.

"...So it sounds really shifty, yeah, but even if it is some sort of trick, I could still hold my own. You told me yourself dad, 'An unarmed fighter-'"

"'-Is often the most dangerous fighter', yeah I remember. Still, two Xiao Longs are better than one, so if this whole thing is actually a bust, we should be able to hold our own against whatever gets thrown at us." The two stopped in front of a busy and raucous shop labelled "Sullivan's Supply". Taiyang turned to his daughter, who looked uncomfortable from the judgmental stares she was getting from the customers within the shop who were looking out of the caged window. He pulled her to the side.

"I'm gonna restock some of our supplies, can you wait out here real quick?" Yang took one last look at the raucous compatriots eyeing her from inside, before she made her answer.

"Alright. Don't take too long though."

Her father patted her on the shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

"I won't."

As soon as her father entered the shop, Yang placed her back against the front wall and sighed. She took one last look at the people going about their business, and saw that many passerbyers were glancing in her direction, and their expressions were universally the same as the people in the store. Yang leaned her head against the brick surface and closed her eyes, as though the action would banish the feeling of being watched from her mind.

And yet the feeling persisted.

"Huh," a familiar voice distinguished itself out of the cacophony coming from the shop. "You'd think getting a month's worth of bedrest would give a gal a more rejuvenated look, but you look like you could fall asleep on your feet any second now."

Yang opened her eyes, and lo and behold, there stood Gabe, slightly to the left of her vision. He was dressed as he had when they last met. This time, however, he held a child with the crook of his right arm. She must have been no older than five, as her short arms barely wrapped around the tall man's shoulder. Unlike the man, they themselves were dressed in an oversized, navy blue turtleneck sweater with violet horizontal stripes, brown khaki slacks, a white beanie and matching gloves. Her brown, shoulder length hair fell around her eyes, which prevented Yang from knowing if they were currently asleep or not.

"Heh, morning sunshine." Gabe greeted with muted enthusiasm, his eyebrows flared out in lieu of an actual smile. "Nice to see you out and about, finally." He gave a small nod towards Yang. "Looks like you've dressed appropriately for the weather too."

Indeed, she had forgone her usual marigold tube-top, leather jacket, biker short with skirt outfit in favor of a tan great coat, white woolen sweater, and a knee length burnt orange skirt with leggings underneath. Yang frowned at the empty sleeve on her right side, before she turned upon the grey-haired man.

"Not my usual choice, but after we got those crappy directions on that number you gave me, my dad insisted I dress up… Also, what the hell was up with those directions you left us? 'Arrive at the edge of the forest by seven o'clock, make sure you're not followed?'"

"Glad you followed my advice, then." Gabe replied, ignoring the blonde's interrogative reprimand. "Atlas has been undergoing… record breaking temperatures as of late."

Yang raised an eyebrow in interest, outrage temporarily dispersed by news from another kingdom.

"Define record breaking."

"Saw a couple of birds out in front of the academy a week ago. I think they're still there." Gabe twitched his head at looked over at something over Yang's shoulder. "Speaking of things sticking around longer than they ought to."

Yang looked over her shoulder, and just for a moment she could see a group of young men and women glancing in her direction, before they turned away and began conversing rather too quickly. Yang scowled at her assembled group across the street.

"Looks like you're talk of the town." Gabe raised an eyebrow. "Though you don't seem to be enjoying it too much. Lien for your thoughts?"

Her anger somewhat abated, Yang looked contemplative as she stared at the ground.

"Ever since I left the house, I've been getting these stares from everywhere. And not those 'oh God she's smoking' sort of looks. More like I'm some sort of-"

"Thug, criminal, murderer?" Gabe finished for her. She nodded glumly. The masked man hummed, fog condensing from his mask.

"Well, when one of the last things people see before the CCTS got knocked out was a young lady with long blonde hair kneecapping her competitor without provocation…" Yang's eyes widened in growing horror. "Yeah. Needless to say, you're not liked very much anywhere."

"But… I was framed!" She protested. Gabe shrugged his shoulders.

"At this point, it doesn't really matter what you say is the truth. The fact of the matter is that for the rest of the world, the truth died with Beacon." Gabe tilted his head up, as if looking for something amongst the clouds. "My advice to you on the matter is this: own up to it. You're going to have to deal with a lot of people who don't trust you, and no matter how much you try to throw your side of the story doesn't change the fact that it happened and people saw you do it. It might not be fair, but that's just how it is right now." The masked man snorted, as though he were amused by his next thought. "Seriously though, if someone tries to mess with you in Atlas, you can remind them what you did to that grey haired punk. Just… don't start random bar fights for the kick of it, ok?"

Yang sighed and brushed back some hair from her eyes. She was never going to live that down, was she?

"I'll think about it."

Her conversation partner gave her an "ok" sign.

"It's a start."

The trio stood in silence for a while. Thankfully the child in the man's gentle grasp prevented the silence from being overbearing with her soft breathing.

"So… are you coming with us then?" Yang asked the masked man. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Huh? Oh, no." Gabe shook his head. "We've never been to Vale or Patch before, so my daughter and I decided to have ourselves a little tour of these lands before we head back." He raised his eyebrows in elation. "I have to say, your restaurants here are really something. It's a shame the city fell before we could fully appreciate Vale proper."

Just as he finished his comment, the child in his arm shifted.

"Papa?" The child spoke softly, her raspy from slumber. They brushed her hair from her eyes, and to Yang's utter bemusement, they too were squinted shut.

As the saying goes, like father, like daughter.

Gabe, for his part, seemed to glow with joy now that his daughter was awake.

"Morning, sweetheart." The masked man welcomed his daughter back to the realm of consciousness with a flick to his daughter's nose.

"Hey!" she cried indignantly, and she attempted to counter attack with a flick of her own, which Gabe dodged with a slight shift of his head. She crossed her arms and pouted.

"Heh, almost got me that time, Zoey." He chuckled at his daughter's outraged look. She twisted her upper body away from her father, and her look of outrage quickly evaporated into one of awe.

"Whoa…" Zoey gasped as she took in the sight before her. Gabe turned to look at whatever his daughter was, then looked back at his daughter, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"You're really pretty!" Zoey found her voice and complimented Yang, who found herself taken aback by the girl's unexpected comment. She looked at Gabe, who once again, shrugged and gestured back at her.

"Thanks. Zoey was it?"

"Mhm." The girl nodded, before she looked to her father. With a wordless acknowledgement, he set her down on the ground slowly. Zoey looked up at Yang, then looked toward the empty sleeve of her coat.

"Oh, your arm's gone!" She exclaimed with a frown. Yang grabbed the empty sleeve and looked toward Gabe, an apologetic look in her eyes.

"But that's okay!" The smile was back on her face. "Papa has to work with this a lot! He and mister Geppetto can make you a new one!"

"I'm a bit out of practice, but I'll see what I can do." The masked man commented. His daughter turned to face him, and he crouched down so that they could talk eye-to-eye.

"Papa, are we going back to work?"

Gabe shook his head and brushed some hair from his eyes.

"Not yet, sweetie. Remember that ice cream parlor on the other side of town?"

Zoey looked enraptured with joy by this set of news from her father.

"Really!?"

Gabe grunted in confirmation and held out his right hand, which his daughter took hold of with her left. He stood up and turned to his side to face Yang.

"Well, we won't take any more of your time, miss Xiao Long. I can see your flight circling overhead right now, and we wouldn't want you to be late for your appointment." Indeed, like a phantom drifting through the fog, Yang could make out small, transport shuttle making going through its landing pattern. Gabe took a step closer to Yang, and leaned in to whisper. "Be careful over there, alright? Atlas might be tightening its security, but we're stretched thin as it is. Some people might recognize you and try to bait you into a fight. Don't. The streets are really congested with heavy traffic too, so you're best off going on foot. If you have to, cut through New Menagerie and head towards the Academy." The man leaned back to his original position and looked down at his daughter. "Well, that ice cream won't be eating itself. We should be off now, Zoey. Yang, be seeing ya."

Zoey waved towards Yang as the two walked off down the street, a cheery smile on their face as they continued on towards their destination.

"Bye miss Yang!"

Yang smiled and waved back, watching as the father-daughter duo disappeared behind an ever growing crowd of shoppers and pedestrians. She felt a sense of hope that the two were able to enjoy their lives, despite the general feeling of hopelessness going around.

"Hey." Yang picked out her father's voice from the cacophony of the busy store. She turned and saw her father step towards her, two duffel bags in hand.

"Here, I got you three boxes of 10 gauge frags for your gauntlets, plus some burn crystals, a cleaning kit, and a first aid kit." He handed her one of the duffels, which she slung over her armless shoulder.

"I saw a shuttle circle above the forest earlier. We should get going." Yang informed her father. He adjusted the two packs on his back and nodded.

"Let's get going then."

It took them some ten minutes to exit town, and along the way Yang had endured more stares and whispers. Her father tensed at some of the words being tossed around, but Yang paid no mind to the malicious slander herself. Eventually, stone and brick turned into dirt, and the two found themselves at the entrance of the forest. They navigated through the lifeless trees that populated the snow logged land, before they eventually arrived at a clearing. At once, Taiyang's fears were mostly assauged and Yang felt her hope soar ever higher at the sight of the Pike-class aerial transport landed and prepped for take off, along with several Atlesian soldiers forming a perimeter around the landing site. One of the soldiers, this one with green stripes, saw Yang and Taiyang and shouted into her helmet's communication device before she approached the two.

"Are you Yang Xiao Long!?" She had to shout due to the roaring of the Pike's engines.

"Yeah!" Yang shouted back with a nod. The presumed officer pressed a finger back onto her comms device.

"Castle White, this is Scorpion 4-1 Actual, we have Yellow Dragon and are ready to dust off, over!"

Yang motioned her hand toward her father.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I bring my dad along for the ride!?"

The green striped soldier looked toward Taiyang, who had a sheepish look on his face, before she spoke back into her comms.

"Castle White, this is Scorpion 4-1 Actual, be advised, Yellow Dragon is requesting the entrance of an additional passenger. How copy, over!?" Scorpion 4-1 Actual nodded in response to the message she had received. "Solid copy, Castle White. I shall inform Yellow Dragon immediately. Scorpion 4-1 Actual out!" She looked toward the two blonds and threw a thumb back behind her, toward the Pike. "You're green!" Scorpion 4-1 Actual made several gestures, and the rest of her unit began to regroup at the ramp of the Pike, their weapons shouldered and ready to fire.

Taiyang looked toward his daughter and placed a hand on her armless shoulder.

"Well, last chance to back out! You sure you want to do this!?"

Yang took a long, hard look at the Pike, then looked to her father and nodded solemnly.

The two boarded the Pike's ramp, followed by Scorpion 4-1 Actual and her squad. Yang and her father rested their luggage underneath their seats and sat down, and they watched as their armed escort took position opposite to them, their fingers never resting too far from their triggers. As the ramp began to close and darkness began to envelope the cabin, she could only think of how long it would be before she saw home again.

* * *

Author's Note : I'm really sorry this took way too long to get out. Between school, searching for jobs, and several hobbies which drain far too much of my time, this took way longer to write, edit, and publish than it ought to have done. If you see any mistakes, have criticisms, or just have any comments you want to make about this story, feel free to comment. Will try not to take as long on the next chapter as this one. See ya.


	4. Nosing Out Trouble

They had flown for several hours, and it would be several more before they reached their destination. The interior of the shuttle was dark apart from a dim red light that provided minute levels of vision for the silent occupants. Yang found herself in a mental tug of war, with one part of her mind wanting to nod off due to the lack of mental stimulation. However, another part of mind kept her awake with scattered thoughts and fleeting concerns. It was a welcome relief for the young blonde when her father decided to pose a question to their hosts.

"Hey, uh, Scorpion, right?" He asked, uncertain if he had referred to the officer correctly. The five Atlas soldiers looked at one another, before the one with the red stripe spoke.

"I think he's talking about you, LT."

The green striped soldier nodded and turned to Taiyang.

"How can I help you, Mister Xiao Long?" she asked politely.

The man scratched the back of his head.

"Ah, this might sound strange, but is it alright if we get your names? It's kind of weird referring to you all as Scorpion Four something or whatever." Yang rubbed her eyes and looked to her father, bemused at his request.

The green striped officer looked to all of her soldiers, who gave a range of indicators ranging from a thumbs up, a shrug to otherwise silent indifference to the idea of offering their personal identities to their charges. She nodded.

"First Squad, sound off."

"Private First Class Moreno Silva. " The taller red striped soldier on the far end introduced himself with a crooked grin.

"Private First Class Akako Mamemochi." The shorter red striped soldier next in line said in a clear, but quiet voice as she inclined her head politely.

"Corporal Krem Karpatkadzki." The blue striped soldier who towered over the rest of his squad announced himself, his voice soft but clearly audible.

" Sergeant First Class Arancia Jaffa." The yellow striped soldier inclined her head fractionally.

"Second Lieutenant Selma Tormenta." The green striped soldier finished off the roster.

"Cool, and I'm guessing you already know who I am?"

Pvt. Silva turned to look at Pvt. Mamemochi, leaned down with a hand covering his mouth, and stage whispered for everyone to hear.

"Pst, Akako. Were we supposed to know his name?"

Yang had to admit, it was kind of funny seeing her father deflate from having his ego wounded so badly. Looking towards the Reds, she could just feel the shorter soldier chastise her companion without her speaking. However, a thought came to her, so she turned towards the green striped officer.

"Hey, Lieutenant."

"Yes, miss Xiao Long?" Yang rolled her eyes at the formal manner the lieutenant addressed her with.

"Can you tell us the situation back in Atlas?"

As soon as the last syllable left her lips, the mood of the squad had quickly gone frosty. Still, Lt. Tormenta maintained her professional demeanour. With a quick exhale, she began her explanation.

"In all honesty, not good. During the events of the Vytal Festival Incident, we lost three _Tiger_ -class battleships, four _Bottlenose_ -class cruisers, thirteen _Marlin-class_ destroyers, countless transports, gunships, and over thirty five hundred personnel dead or missing in action."

Yang leaned back into her seat slowly, stunned by the lieutenant's report. She looked toward her father, whose face had mirrored her own look of disbelief.

"Atlas has always been a highly militaristic society. Everyone knows someone in the military; friends, family, neighbors, lovers. So on and so forth. But most of our military power laid with our autonomous combat androids. When Beacon fell, DIGCom, or Digital Command, was in charge of controlling the AK-130s and AK-200s that made up over 70% of our total numbers. This allowed us to maintain larger armies and project power over larger spaces, while at the same time minimizing the number of organic personnel needed at one place, as well as greatly reducing amount of casualties we suffered on deployments. After all, why risk people when you can send in mechanized troops to bear the brunt of the fighting?" Cpl. Karpatkadzki looked towards his commanding officer, and after receiving a permissive nod, he added in his analysis.

"Unfortunately, this had the unintended effect of leaving the general population… emotionally unprepared for large numbers of casualties, as well as dependent on automated security forces to protect the city. In the weeks following the Vytal Festival Incident, DIGCom was dissolved by our Council and our androids were shut down indefinitely due to concerns that they could be compromised by malicious programming and turned against Atlas, just as it had occurred during the Incident. So when word spreads that a large number of their loved ones are dead and their primary system of defense is disbanded and disabled-". Yang's eyes widened, and as if the wind were knocked out of her she added

"And the last words broadcasted to the world is a message encouraging doubt in the leadership of the kingdoms."

Lt. Tormenta nodded.

"You've got an entire city up in arms over an increasingly untrustworthy military leadership, and a severe shortage of manpower you can send in order to keep calm in the streets."

"The perfect breeding ground for riots and terror attacks." Sgt. Jaffa interjected, speaking with experience. Pvt. Silva crossed his arms before he decided to add into the conversation.

"It doesn't help that ATCON decided to reinstate the draft. They also issued a total recall of all inactive personnel. That means everyone, reservists, retired Huntsmen and Huntresses, the works. So now you got a bunch of kids pissed off at the government trying to force them to put their lives on the line, a bunch of old farts pissed off at the government trying to force them to do it again, and a whole lot of itchy trigger fingers just waiting for something to kick off."

"Hence why we were assigned to escort you, Miss Xiao Long." Pvt. Mamemochi piped in. When Yang gave her a look of confusion, she elaborated, "The people are confused, upset, angry. They look everywhere in order find something to blame, or at the very least, take their aggression out on. And no offense to you miss Xiao Long, but when everyone saw your fight with that grey haired boy-"

"A textbook kneecapping, by the way." Pvt. Silva chirped up, causing Yang to look down shamefully. He shouted in pain a moment afterwards, a hand shooting to his right thigh.

"There have been some rumors going around that you may have been involved in the fall of Beacon. That you were a part of the plan to send the nations into chaos."

At this, Taiyang stood up, clearly affronted by the private's insinuation.

"What are you trying to say!? That my daughter is-" He abruptly stopped his tirade when Yang caught his wrist as he was about to point accusingly at the squad.

"Dad…" She said tiredly, though there was a slight edge in her tone. The two stared each other down briefly, before Yang let go of her father's arm.

"What do you five think about these rumors?" Yang asked as she regarded her armed escort, as if to gauge some sort of reaction. Once again, the five soldiers looked at one another silently, and once again came to a consensus with one another, before they looked towards Yang once more.

"Are they true?" Pvt. Mamemochi quietly queried. Yang gave a rueful grin.

"There's a lot of things I would give my arm and my freedom for. My dad, my sister. My dog too, depending on whether or not he chewed on my favorite pillow that week or not." Cpl. Karpatkadzki snorted, clearly amused by such a proclamation as Yang continued. "But if you think that I would throw away my life for some crazy woman's cause and destroy the one place where my sister could learn to become the hero she wanted to become, if you think I would hurt my friends, then you're wrong on so many levels."

Lt. Tormenta and Sgt, Jaffa shared a quick look with one another, before the officer shrugged.

"Very well." She spoke offhandedly. Yang frowned at the abrupt end to what was going to be a heated and lengthy interrogation. Her father voiced a similar opinion. Very loudly actually.

"Well then why would you bring it up in the first place if you're going to dismiss them immediately!?"

The lieutenant turned toward her father, and an invisible clash of wills between the two professionals ensued.

"Mister Xiao Long, I may be a low ranking officer with a comparatively small amount of experience compared to some of my colleagues, but I know how to garner information from even the smallest of details. I can subject you and your daughter to a long and exhaustive questioning, but I will not, because those are not my orders. My orders are to get your daughter to the clinic as quickly and safely as possible. However, if you or your daughter prove yourselves a danger to my team or the people of Atlas, then I will not hesitate in doing my duty."

Taiyang narrowed his eyes and leaned forward in his seat.

"And just what makes you think you got what it takes to take us both on?"

"What makes you think you have any chance of getting out of that scenario alive?" The lieutenant countered, uncowed by the veteran huntsman's threat. Before anyone could attempt to defuse the situation, the two professionals became locked into a staring competition, and the rest of the cabin's occupants shifted around uncomfortably. It was going to be a long flight.

Unfortunately for Taiyang, no one was going to mention remind him that the lieutenant was wearing a helmet.

* * *

When the Pike touched down and the cabin doors finally opened, the Pike's occupants felt needles stabbing into their skin near immediately as the arctic winds drifted inwards. Snow fell down sideways, and the wind was howling like a distant banshee. Yang shivered, despite the multiple layers she had worn in preparation. She made a quick glance toward her father, who at the very least, seemed content not to voice his discontent at the freezing temperature.

Presumably not to show weakness in front of their armed escort. Yang shook her head and curled her hand into a fist, and her aura manifested itself as flame within her hand.

It did little to comfort her.

Gritting her teeth, she disembarked the vessel, followed shortly after by her father and the escort squad, the latter of whom had begun to detach their weapons from their magnetic clips: Pvt. Mamemochi and Cpl. Karpatkadzki held standard issue rifles with mounted passive optics. Sgt. Jaffa cradled a double barreled, eight gauge, pump action, bullpup shotgun. Pvt. Silva had a drum magazine fed light machine gun with a foregrip and active electronic sights. Lt. Tormenta, meanwhile, elected to stay unarmed for the time being, instead handling the group's navigation via Scroll. Nodding toward her charges, Lt. Tormenta led the group off the ramp and onto Atlas proper.

Yang was expecting to see a few teams of foot soldiers patrolling the landing bays and some checkpoints scattered throughout the airport. What she did not expect to see were manned Paladins accompanying full squads, heavy machine gun nests posted along the dozens of barbed-wire topped, metal detector equipped gates, or gunships making frequent passes overhead, mounted searchlights indicating where their rotary cannons were aimed towards.

"Yeesh, and here I thought I was the overprotective one." Taiyang quipped as he eyed a Paladin, accompanied by a team of military Huntsmen, stomp past their entourage warily. It was obvious that they were Huntsmen due to their lack of helmets, as well as their unconventional choice of weaponry consisting of a large, flanged tip lance paired with a buckler shield, a compound bow with an advanced rangefinder and optics system, a machete with a Burn Dust infused edge, and a miner's pick.

"So is this where you guys get off, or are you going to be following us the entire time we're here?" Yang asked Lt. Tormenta, who shook her head, her lips twisted into an apologetic frown.

"The latter, ma'am. We have strict orders to escort you and your father to Doctor Polendina, so if you could follow us for the time being."

Yang nodded. It made sense as to why Atlas would place her and her father under armed escort during their visit. They obviously had something to gain if they invited her to travel from across the globe in order to fit her with an advanced, prosthetic limb. As Gabe was kind enough to point out back at Patch, she had attracted some very unwanted attention around the world thanks to the Vytal Tournament.

Her father, on the other hand, looked absolutely displeased with this condition, and he grimaced at the escorting squad like a limb ravaged by a multitude of venereal diseases. To the squad's credit, they maintained an unwavering aura of professionalism in spite of the older Xiao Long's antagonistic demeanour towards them.

"So, how are we getting there?" Yang asked, apprehensive of the Paladin which stomped its way towards the group's direction. The Paladin stopped a few steps away from the group, and Lt. Tormenta stepped forward, brandishing a Scroll. She thrusted it towards the Paladin, which shifted a scanning device mounted on one of the Paladin's hardpoints over the device. Despite the dark tint of the cockpit, Yang managed to make out the pilot nodding their head. Then the mech turned aside and continued on its path.

"There's a no-fly-zone that stretches across most of the inner city, so air travel is a out of the question. Normally this would leave us the obvious choice of vehicular transportation. Unfortunately, the roads are currently restricted due to the upcoming demonstration today, so we're going to have to go on foot for the rest of the trip."

"Whoa, wait what?" Pvt. Silva sputtered intelligibly. "I knew about the no-fly-zone, but when they did they ever say anything about a march?"

Pvt. Mamemochi clicked her tongue and gave an exasperated shake of the head.

"They told us this last week Moreno. You were busy fooling around with Sonia when-" The short red striped soldier was interrupted when her companion decided the rest of the group did not need to hear of his punishable-by-law escapade, so he silenced her with an extremely unsubtle hand over her mouth. A quick glance at Lt. Tormenta indicated nothing. If anything, this made Pvt. Silva pale even further.

"As much as I like to see little Silva here squirm, we have a mission we need to get to." Sgt. Jaffa fixed Pvt. Silva with a withering glance, before she pulled out her Scroll. She snapped it open and with a few swipes and taps of her finger, she brought up a topographical map of the city with streets, roads, and landmarks. Pvt. Mamemochi approached Yang with a stick of gum in hand. The blonde shook her head, so the shorter red striped private shrugged and unwrapped the confection for herself.

"According to the organizers of the march, over a hundred thousand people will be slowly streaming into a path that starts in and around Hyperion Boulevard and ends at Main Street." As she said this, a long yellow line snaked its way through the streets on the map, its length stretching several dozen blocks. "Due to this procession, automotive transportation has been restricted for select units supervising the event." An orange dot appeared where the group was located within the airport, before it shot off in a narrow line headed northbound in a series of twists and turns around the yellow line, like a worm trying to sneak past the great snake slumbering in its path. "Therefore, we have come up with an alternative route that allows us to minimize the amount of time needed to traverse the city, as well as minimizing the potential threats to you and your father."

Yang studied the route intently, making note of the different streets, boroughs, and neighborhoods that the orange line passed through.

"How much of a delay are we looking at from this route?" She asked Sgt. Jaffa.

"Probably an hour or two at most, why?" The security specialist asked. Yang shook her head.

"Just wondering. My dad and I aren't exactly used to this kind of weather… " She trailed off as she glanced at her father, who was trying to maintain his intimidating visage from earlier. His efforts were hampered by the fact that his arms were wrapped around his sides, and he was visibly shivering for all to see. Lt. Tormenta nodded sagely.

"Then we best get moving then. Wouldn't look good if you two froze under our watch."

On this, Taiyang could wholeheartedly agree, and after Lt. Tormenta dealt with the paperwork at the last checkpoint, the group set off on their long trek inland.

Upon passing through the final checkpoint, the group was struck by how utterly desolate the terminal was. Bags, totes, and luggage were strewn all around the abandoned facility, many of which were unopened. Several shops had tell-tale signs of looting as well, destroyed merchandise intermingled with shards of glass in ransacked businesses, scorch marks blackened previously pristine parlors, and graffiti displaying crude and increasingly bleak iconography and messages marked the most heavily damaged areas.

The warmth of the building gave no comfort against the chills that ran wild in their bodies.

"What happened here?" Yang breathed, finally able to find her voice.

"Civilization at its worse." Cpl. Karpatkadzki answered. When Yang turned toward him with a confused expression, he elaborated. "When the remnants of General Ironwood's fleet returned to Atlas with news that Vale had fallen to the Grimm, people started to become… aware. Of how fragile their way of life really was. The vast walls of the city were breached by Grimm larger than buildings. Huntsmen and huntresses drowned in a sea of black and bone. An entire army, wiped out in a single day. Everything that had served as the protectors of civilization since the discovery of Dust, gone. All in a single night."

The Corporal knelt down and picked up a discarded Ursa plushie. Though his visor obscured his eyes, it was plain to see that the man was deep in thought.

"It is very sad when you think about it. We hone our bodies beyond the peak of physicality. Train our minds to process information and react on a moment's notice. Build and create the most incredible inventions that our ancestors could only dream of… And yet, when the end is in sight, we are nothing more than children trying to hide from the monsters that lurk in the shadows. And like children, when we feel afraid and powerless, we dream of times where we can obtain power."

He set the plushie down and rose to his feet.

"And there is nothing more dangerous than men in pursuit of their dreams." He muttered as he continued to walk down the deserted terminal at the head of the group. Yang turned to Sgt. Jaffa.

"Hey, not trying to be rude or anything, but he didn't really answer my question."

The security specialist bowed her head and slumped her shoulders.

"He does that a lot. Going off on philosophical tangents, I meant." The two fell to the back of the group as they slowly walked through the ruined terminal's shopping center. The sergeant cradled her rifle in the crooks of her arms as she conversed with the young huntress.

"Did he always do this?"

Sgt. Jaffa made a sour expression as she shook her head.

"As far as I remember, no. He might have had some discussions of the nature with his previous squad, but he mostly kept to himself then."

Yang nodded absently at this small tidbit of information on one of her escorts.

"So, I guess I'll ask you the same question."

The sergeant grabbed hold of Yang's shoulder, stopping her from taking another step forward. She leaned down and picked up a twisted nail, some rust already starting to form from exposure, but still sharp enough to puncture. She threw it in the vague direction of a trash bin and motioned Yang to follow her.

"I think it's better if I showed you what happened."

The two women walked quietly, the young blonde taking in the devastation around her while the security specialist kept a silent vigil. They eventually caught up with the main body of their group, who were stopped in the middle of the winding path.

"Oh my God." Taiyang whispered, eyes wide. When Yang and Sgt. Jaffa caught up, the younger blonde gave a similar reaction to her father.

In front of the group laid a large, winding section of the terminal taped off from general access. Spent casings were scattered all throughout. Numerous body outlines drawn in chalk were etched into the ground. Dark patches of rusted red was still splattered on the floor and the walls,

"Why?" Was all Yang could ask.

No one could answer. They all stood silently until Lt. Tormenta started for the door.

"We have to keep moving." She said flatly, not bothering to look back at the group as she quick-timed it towards the exit. Her troops followed without hesitation, but the father-daughter duo shared uneasy look with one another.

"You know, I wasn't feeling so sure about this before, but now I'm really not so sure about this now."

Yang looked back at the scene of the crime. She opened her mouth to say something… but no words came out. She clenched her jaw and shook her head sadly as she turned to follow their escorts. Taiyang bowed his head and took a deep breath, before he too made towards the exit.

* * *

After walking for nearly six hours through the long and crowded streets of Atlas, Yang concluded several things.

First and foremost: she was absolutely out of shape. Despite being in relatively good health despite being wounded back at Beacon, her two month period of loafing around from depression had severely sapped her previously impeccable stamina. Though she wasn't feeling winded from their long trek from the terminals, she was certainly feeling the strain of travelling such a long distance for a long time, whereas before, her body wouldn't have even registered this trip as grueling any more than a long trip at the mall.

It made Yang feel… vulnerable. And that certainly was not a feeling she was used to. Not that the city was helping in anyway.

Speaking of the city, something felt… off, about the city.

The streets were writhing with people, like a typical business day, and yet it seemed as if the life of the city had long been snuffed out. It was like a great weight had perched itself onto the backs of every citizen, their backs slouched to the ground and feet dragged with every step. Whereas in Patch, people would still at least mingle and converse, the citizens of Atlas seemed to move without no other purpose or reason than to avoid any contact with one another, either physical or social. The many soldiers who patrolled the streets offered no comfort from their presence. In fact, when Yang paid more attention, some people went out of their way to inconvenience and harass the soldiers; dropping pieces of trash at their feet, heckling and taunting them, even violating their personal space in an effort to provoke some sort of retaliatory aggression. Most soldiers took it in stride, but it wasn't hard for anyone to see that the military personnel tasked with providing day to day security were rapidly succumbing to their tormentors Her escorts tightened their grips on their weapons as they watched their comrades face abuse.

"God, it's getting worse." Pvt. Silva muttered, doing his best to ignore the leering that was being shot their way from an ever increasing crowd gathering outside of a coffee shop the group was passing by. The squad instinctively huddled closer, herding Yang and her father towards the center of their formation as people began pointing in their direction, muttering to one another. Yang couldn't hear them, but she could read their snarled lips well enough.

" _Isn't that the girl from the tournament?"_

" _What's Atlas doing escorting a criminal!?"_

" _That woman was right, there really is no justice."_

"Come on," Lt. Tormenta said aloud from behind Yang, which snapped her attention away from the growing crowd of onlookers. Shaking her head, Yang focused on the path ahead of her entourage. Suddenly, a burst of electric feedback squealed into existence, and street went silent as a man's voice began to speak.

" _Humans. Faunus. Though we have shared our differences in the past, today we must come together, so that our message might be heard."_

"Sergeant, I thought the rally isn't supposed to start for another hour." Lieutenant Tormenta turned toward her NCO, her grip on her Scroll tightening. Sgt. Jaffa frowned as she looked at one of the mobs that were beginning to emerge from the many storefronts that lined the street, some starting brandish previously obscured picket signs.

"Seems to be a change of plans, Lieutenant. We need to get off this street before the crowd gets too big… or rowdy."

Lt. Tormenta palmed the center of her chestplate and gripped, and without a word, Scorpion 4-1 formed a tight perimeter around Yang and Taiyang. The entourage slowly made made their way down the street, with Pvt. Silva and Sgt. Jaffa taking the wings of their formation. Most bystanders got the message the squad was trying to send, and wisely made way for them to proceed. Despite their use of intimidation speeding up their journey, however, it was getting increasingly difficult for Scorpion 4-1 and the two Xiao Longs to progress down the crowded street, as more and more protesters were beginning to arrive in numbers and pushing their way down the winding boulevard. Eventually, the sheer density of the crowd simply became too great. The group made it to the intersection between Main Street and Liberation Road, where they walked into a dirty alleyway and the squad took up defensive positions around their commander and their wards, Pvt. Mamemochi scanned the skyline for potential threats while Cpl. Karpatkadzki, being the tallest of the group, made a quick assessment of their route and shook his head.

"There must be several thousand people walking down the street right now… I don't think our old route is viable any longer."

Lt. Tormenta huffed and placed her scroll on the ground, shaking her head at the many traffic updates that had only just begun to pop on the holographic map,. Most of the roads leading to Atlas Academy and the doctor's clinic flashed red. Her nose wrinkled, and

"Damnit, this was supposed to be a simple mission." She muttered as she scanned the map, looking for a new route. Taiyang walked toward the map, making a point not to look at Lt. Tormenta, and examined the map for himself. Yang watched as the lieutenant and her father scrutinized the possible paths that they could take without too much of a delay to their journey. After a minute of hard staring, Taiyang pointed to a specific point on the map, a large borough with an entrance not too far from where they stood and exited into Atlas's campus.

"Why don't we go through here? We might have to skirt around the protestors first, but after that, it looks like a straight shot to Atlas." Lt. Tormenta grimaced when she looked at where Taiyang pointed at.

"That might be… complicated." She muttered, but seeing no alternative, she laid her palm on Taiyang's proposed shortcut and slowly spread her fingers out, zooming the map's focus into onto the rather large district that laid between a heavily fortified section of the city's walls and the Main Campus. Yang walked over to the map, and her eyes widened in recollection as she stared at the name that hovered over their next destination.

'NEW MENAGERIE'

* * *

The next hour was spent in relative silence, mostly due to the fact that the group was trying to desperately to cut through the crowd, now numbering in the tens of thousands and clogging the streets without inciting any forms of aggression. Thankfully, the snow storm was beginning to ease up, and the group managed to enter New Menagerie without too much incident.

Although, Pvt. Mamemochi's quiet swearing did not escape the notice of the rest of the group. Yang felt pity for the young woman. The smell of sewage dunked cabbage would haunt her for days.

Despite the dilapidated state of the sign which welcomed any visitors and travellers passing through, the district itself was very much alive. Although muted compared to locales found in Vale or Patch, New Menagerie was a vibrant welcome compared to the industrial uniformity of the rest of Atlas. For instance, instead of having an important institution as the centerpiece of the community, which in Atlas' case was the Academy, New Menagerie was focused around a large park, with large trees several stories tall, and a clear, freshwater lake.

The district had definitely seen better days. Though there were no visibly rundown or condemned buildings as might have been expected based off of the reactions of Scorpion 4-1, a fair number of storefronts had displayed signs indicating that the businesses that had once occupied them had undergone foreclosure, and some blocks appeared to be missing some structures. Most of the buildings were from an older period, mostly made of wood, brick and mortar, rather than the metal, glass, and concrete that gave the skyscrapers that dominated the city their ethereal shimmer, which provided the district a charming, Old World aesthetic. Though the oppressive tension of the main city seemed to have been left behind by the group after they had entered the neighborhood, the mood had become more melancholic. Like the city district had endured a terrible tragedy, but no one was around to mourn for it.

Where was everyone?

"They're all hiding." Sgt. Jaffa said, her voice hushed and uncharacteristically soft. When Yang looked toward the older woman, her confusion plain to be seen, she surprised the blonde with a muted smile.

"I used to say stuff without knowing it back when I was younger." Her smile faded as quickly as it came, however. "My husband used to tease me about it all the time."

An uncomfortable silence formed between the two women as they followed the rest of the group. Yang decided to break it, before it became too much to bear.

"You make it sound like the people hiding in this part of town is your fault. Is there something you're not telling us?"

The sergeant stopped, her gaze fixed on the moon, as she spoke,

"Personally; no. I've got nothing against the Faunus, and I plan on doing nothing against the Faunus if I can help it. But despite however I might feel, the fact of the matter is that Faunus are not given their proper due in this city, and we don't exactly contribute much to alleviate them of their issues."

When Yang didn't say anything, Sgt. Jaffa took this as a sign to continue.

"Atlas is… behind when it comes to Human-Faunus relations. The Council of Commanders never had much love for the Faunus population, not back during the Great Migration after the War, and especially not these days. Not to say that they're all out for them, there are some who try to make things better for Faunus, but they're the minority. On the bright side, that small minority happens to have significant political clout behind them. So a compromise was made, nearly twenty years ago: Faunus would be allowed to enroll at the Academy and enlist in the military, as well as the ability to access the same utilities and services that are rendered to humans citizens of Atlas. In exchange, New Menagerie would be given the lowest security priority by Atlas forces."

Yang slowed down and gazed at her feet, her eyes narrowed in thought, but remained quiet. Sgt. Jaffa took her continued silence as a sign to continue her explanation.

"For a while, the Faunus lived relatively well, safe and quiet in their little corner of the city. And then, well… You probably know well enough about the rise of the White Fang." The sergeant let out a tired sigh. "A real shame they went down the path that they did. Things were starting to look up, not only for the Faunus who lived here, but everyone in Atlas." Sgt. Jaffa had a fond smile on her face.

"My son actually made a few friends here. They all went to the same school, played on the same playground, even managed to go to the same restaurants without getting any nasty looks. My husband and I were even thinking of moving into this neighborhood after we both retired from active duty."

Just as suddenly as the smile came, it was gone.

"Then news started to leak out about a certain company not treating their employees fairly, then some dumb kids started throwing rocks at protesters. Before anyone could realize what was happening, you got retaliation attacks being launched by both humans and faunus on one another and the leader of the Fang stepping down to try and appease a bunch of bigots. Next thing you know, the Fang gets bloody, and now kids can't even walk down the street without their parents having to worry . And you know who got caught in the middle of all the pent up rage and frustration?"

Sgt. Jaffa motioned towards the foreclosed stores that they had passed by earlier.

"Didn't take long for criminals, loan sharks and credit predators to start flooding into this place. Started forcing businesses to sell everything off to make payments, inflated premiums to ridiculous prices when vandals inevitably came to cause damage. There even used to be a drug problem a while back, although…"

The sergeant looked from one side to another, and seeing how the group fairly far away from them, gestured for Yang to lean in. The blonde complied.

"The White Fang took care of the drug dealers three months ago, right before they disappeared."

Yang froze in place, and her bodyguard watched as the fingers of her hand curled, disappearing behind the sleeve of her coat. The blonde's arm shook, and for a moment the air got intensely warm, before she turned to face the older woman, a scowl fixed upon her lips.

"Explain." she growled. If Sgt. Jaffa was intimidated by Yang's aggressive demeanor, it didn't show. Nonetheless, she acquiesced and elaborated.

"A month before the Vytal Festival, the Atlesian chapter of the White Fang was participating in a brutal cleanup campaign within New Menagerie. Every week, dozens of known drug dealers, smugglers, and shop owners would go missing, only for their bodies to found on the other side of town, right next to the walls. Buildings, both derelict and bustling businesses burned to the ground, with no apparent rhyme or reasoning behind their destructions. At least until we managed to get some forensic experts into the district did we discover drug production labs, illegal sweatshops, and empty captive holding pens deep within the smouldering ruins. Not only that, but there were a lot of missing files and records from most of the attacked locations. Probably regarding the suppliers and benefactors of the drug trade in New Menagerie. But the next, the attack on Beacon happens, and Fang activity drops completely in all of Atlas. Most people assumed that this is because they had participated in the attack and went into hiding.

But there's two problems with this assumption.

The first is that Atlesian branch of the White Fang-"

Before Sgt. Jaffa could continue to elaborate, a shrill scream shattered the silent ambiance of the district, and without further thought the two women raced toward the source of the distressed cry, cycling the actions of their personal weapons and chambering shells with practiced ease. Their pace quickened as the cry repeated itself, accompanied shortly by enraged, manic shouting. The huntress and the sergeant watched as the rest of the group rounded around a street corner, weapons drawn and shouldered, squared for combat. The two shared a look and nodded to one another as they followed suit.

* * *

Taiyang grit his teeth at the sight before him, fighting against every instinct to charge forward in a flurry of fists. Judging by how his companion's hands shook as she was gripped her pistols, it seemed that Lt. Tormenta was also having some issues herself trying to keep her composure in check.

"Let, let go of the girl." The lieutenant demanded, gulping away the tremor that was building in her throat. Behind the officer and the huntsman, Pvt. Silva mounted his SAW against the hood of a sedan, while Cpl. Karpatkadzki and Pvt. Mamemochi took position behind a rounded stone corner separating the street from the park.

This show of force, however, did not seem to deter the masked thug dressed in a baby blue tracksuit, who sneered at the newly arrived interlopers with glazed over brown eyes and a crazed smile, her hands tightening around the grip of his weapon: a war machete, with a long vicious looking blood red blade, serrated on the false edge. as well as the wrist of a distressed little girl, whose pale blue eyes were brimming with rapidly falling tears, and puffy furred ears flattening against her head. Behind the hostage taker and her victim, a large group of similarly dressed men stood, some armed with knives, pipes, and baseball bats, while others wielded firearms ranging from pistols, shotguns, submachine guns, rifles, even a few rocket launchers. Most of the armed gang were dealing with the growing crowd of faunus who were beginning to come out of their homes, shoving anyone who came too close back, brandishing their weapons threateningly in order to deter anyone else from intervening, while the rest moved to back up their presumed leader, pointing their weapons at the would-be lawbringers.

"Well, well, well… If it isn't the high and mighty army of Atlas? What brings you to this part of town, anyway? Have the people in the high castle finally decided to stick their necks out for the freaks? … Or have you come to watch us put these animals in their place?" The hostage taker's question was followed by hoots and hollers of approval from the men and women backing her up. The leader giggled as she regarded the girl she was holding with an unhinged gaze.

"Hehe, we found this little cutie here wandering around, looking for someone called 'Mommy'." She pulled off the ground, causing the girl to scream in pain and fear, and held the point of her blade close to the girl's face. "I bet you know where that stupid bitch is hiding, don't you!? So why don't you make like the good little rat you are and tell me where Mami is!"

The crowd became outraged, and several people had to be physically restrained from charging the armed group. A couple held each other in their arms, tears falling from their eyes as they watched on, helpless,

The lieutenant flicked the safeties of her pistols off. She breathed outward, a large cloud of fog forming from the warmth of breath clashing with the freezing Atlesian air, and her arms shook less than before.

"Let the girl go." She repeated, this time more resolute in her words. Next to her, Taiyang slowly began to drop into a forward stance, his unclenched hands low and at his sides, and the tattoos that snaked around his arms began to change color.

The woman stared dumbly at the two, as if she did not register the challenged posed by the two. Then her eyes seemed to focus, and the woman threw her head back, and she erupted in laughter. In the distance, the deep bass of a distant thunderstorm echoed throughout the district, and the unobscured moon cast a sinister light on the laughing madwoman.

"Oh, oh I see what this is. You're going to try and stop me and my gang? What, you and blonde, busty and brave over there think you can stop us from getting our payback from this flock of dumb animals!?" Taiyang turned around, and saw his daughter and the woman who had been accompanying her for the entire trip standing in the middle of the street. The woman, Sergeant Jaffa if he remembered correctly, had her double barrelled shotgun shouldered and ready to fire. But Yang… her left half of Ember Celica was deployed into gauntlet form on her arm, but his daughter seemed to be… frozen for lack of a better term. Her posture was ramrod stiff, her eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, and her mouth was slightly agape. It didn't take Taiyang long to figure out what was wrong. Thankfully, the sergeant noticed what he was looking at and moved to Yang's side, slightly nudging her with her shoulder and whispering something in her ear.

"Teh, like you idiots can do anything here. You couldn't keep the Vytal Festival under control. You can't even keep this damn city in control. You losers try anything, and you're dead! So~" The woman spat, then look down at the girl with a savage grin on her face. She let her hostage fall, the girl in question painfully falling on her backside onto the pavement, and she held her machete up high, the pale light of the rising moon illuminating the blade with a sinister sheen. Despite the sight of several guns pointed in his direction, Taiyang tensed his leg muscles, ready to spring himself into the fray. In the distance, a piercing snarl roared into the night sky, followed by the cloudless thunder once more.

"I'm going to get this girl to spill her guts to me, one way, or anothe-!"

Before the gang leader could get the opportunity to finish her statement, or let her blade fall upon her would be victim, a large, heavy object crashed on top of her, sending the woman sprawling into the pavement at high velocity, her body leaving a large indent in the cemented asphalt. If the woman had any aura in her body, it had done its duty for the most part, as the woman was unbroken, albeit unconscious. However, no one was paying any attention to the fallen gang leader, neither the faunus inhabitants of New Menagerie, the travelling Scorpion 4-1 and Xiao Long posse, nor even her own raiding party made an attempt to rush to her aid. Instead, everyone in the area looked on with bated breath as the dust began to settle.

As the dust from the object's fall began to settle, the observing Faunus of New Menagerie erupted into loud whispers and murmuring, young children and younger teens in particular struggled to contain their excitement when they recognized the snarling wolf head embossed into the metal centerpiece of the thick, silver plated tower shield held in the left hand of the newly arrived interloper, smoke sluggishly puffing from its mouth. The distressed child, previously curled into a ball, looked up at her savior in awe, her pupils wide. She instinctively curled into the long shadow by the interloper's large shield, positioned to protect her from harm.

Then they looked up, the sound of mechanical whirring and components clicking into place accompanying their slight movement. The effect was immediate, for the previously taunting and impetuous thugs stumbled backwards, all past bravado and cocksure candour replaced by awe and fear.

The figure slowly stood up from their three point landing, and took slow two steps forward, their shield held in left hand out front, ready to intercept any attack. This had an immediate effect on the tracksuit clad raiders, who backed up even further, prompting many faunus to begin evacuating the street.. From his position, Taiyang winced when he saw that the unfortunate raider leader, who had acted as the newcomer's landing impromptu landing pad, was tamely bleeding from multiple, shallow puncture wounds to the chest and abdomen. He then shifted his focus on the new arrival, and examined them in detail.

The fallen newcomer was clad in interlocking, segmented plate armour, which protected their shoulders, torso, upper arms and thighs. Their joints were covered by a thick, flexible layer of chainmail which connected the interlocked plates to the black leather gauntlets they wore over their forearms and the polished, durasteel greaves protecting their shins and hamstrings. Underneath their armor, they wore a violet tunic, tightened around their waist by a white leather belt holding an occupied scabbard on their right side; the hem of the garment's skirt ending at the top of their knees. Around their shoulders, a thick woolen cloth, royal indigo in hue, connected to their armor by a nickel plated clasp at one end, wrapped over their shoulders and neck, and fastened down to the same clasp at the other end.

In their left hand was a tall, thick rectangular shield; it stood from their ankles to their chin, and was curved and reinforced at its edges by a bands of riveted steel. The inside was made of some hardened polymer, hinged at specific regions and featuring a convex center, over which laid a welded horizontal bar from which they held the shield with an iron grasp, while the outside layer was a thick set of tightly spaced, metal plates, accompanied by the snarling wolf head centerpiece, with decorative patterns painted in an ethereally glowing navy blue snaking their way between the narrow gaps left by the plates. Along the sides were two large tubes that Taiyang could not identify. In their right hand, they had a long, wooden pole in their grasp, topped by a gleaming silver spear point with olive branches protruding from the sides. Near the top of the pole was a crossbar a quarter of the pole's length, fastened by a driven nail and carrying a rolled up white cloth underneath.

Despite their heavily armored attire, however, the one thing that drew the eyes of Scorpion 4-1 and Taiyang was the grey furred pelt that adorned their back like a cape; a massive skull and upper jaw freely displaying sharp, vicious teeth in a snarl resting on top of the their head fully intact for all to see, it's front legs tied together at top of their cuirass, and its hind legs and bushy tail coming to the top of their ankles.

"No way…" Taiyang heard Pvt. Mamemochi gasp from her position. Though he kept his gaze focused on the developments going on in front of him, he managed to hear fragments of the conversation going on between her and Cpl. Karpatkadzki.

"... can't be real… "

"... used to tell me stories…

"...Vargr… seen in centuries."

"... exactly how… described... "

"... don't leave bodies..."

Before Taiyang could listen any further into the conversation, the armored stranger stabbed the wooden pole into the road, startling everyone with the sharp crack of wood piercing metal and pavement. Then, after staring down the gang of tracksuit raiders, their right hand fell to the hilt of their weapon at their hip, and with slow deliberation, drew the short, wide bladed sword out of its sheathe. Immediately afterward, the apple shaped pommel of the weapon began to glow light blue, and the blade began to emulate the pommel's transformation. The armored figure fell into a forward stance, their shield braced in front of them, the wolf's head puffing smoke from its mouth and nostrils, and their blade positioned behind the curve of the shield.

For a few brief moments, the raider gang and the interloper stared at one another in a tense, quiet standoff. Then, one of the masked thugs holding a rifle leveled his weapon to a target standing over the stranger's shoulder. Taiyang felt his breath catch in his throat, and his leg muscles tensed as he prepared to throw himself at the bandit gang, while at the same time, the wolf crest centerpiece on the interloper's shield mechanically shifted apart into two halves, which moved to opposite sides of the shield and began to roar with jets of flame.

Then, as if to signal the beginning of a frantic footrace, a gunshot rang out, sending Yang and Sgt. Jaffa falling to the ground. Soon, the street erupted into a flurry of action.

The interloper charged straight into the unorganized crowd of raiders, the combined force of their armored mass and booster propelled momentum tossing men and women pell-mell. One raider in particular had the unfortunate honor of catching the embossed centerpiece of their shield with his mouth before being thrown into a brick wall. Not too far behind, Taiyang entered the fray with a spinning roundhouse kick, cracking the jaws of two raiders who narrowly avoided being caught in the initial charge and were beginning to level their weapons. From their concealed positions, Scorpion 4-1 began to lay down a fusilade of suppressing fire on the raiders lingering at the wings, knocking down those who failed to take cover in time with a hail of bullets.

In the center of the melee, two figures moved to and fro, their every movements flowing like koi feeding in their pond, and with the brutality of the apex predators of the wilds. One baseball wielding thug attempted to strike Taiyang in the back of the head with an overhead strike, only for the blow to intercepted by the interloper's shield, who immediately countered by severing the barrel of the weapon at its neck with a precise slash, before following up with a pommel assisted backhand, which froze the poor thug's face in a jagged block of ice. Taiyang returned the favor not soon afterwards, as two of the thugs managed to position themselves directly behind his ally, one poised her cleaver to strike at their exposed back, while another was beginning to line up a shot with his sawn-off shotgun. Before they could assail his newfound ally, however, Taiyang used their back as a springboard, launching off of them before striking both the two thugs with a double armed lariat, his tattoos glowing orange and his arms engulfed in flames.

* * *

To the squad's distress, several rocket began to roar themselves through the air, and while most soared harmlessly over their heads, Pvt. Mamemochi and Cpl. Karpatkadzki were hastily forced to relocate when two rockets slammed into their cover, the warheads pulverizing the wall, scattering stone, smoke, and dirt throughout the air. Luckily, Pvt. Silva ramped up the volume of fire pouring from his squad automatic weapon, gunning down or pinning any of the thugs who would otherwise attempt to capitalize on his exposed squadmates. The two managed to work their way back to Silva's position, while Lt. Tormenta took cover behind an adjacent minivan. She popped a few shots from around the trunk of the car, managing to down one of the thugs with a rifle with a headshot, before she addressed her regrouped squad.

"Moreno, keep those rockets suppressed! Krem, you pick up the fire when Moreno has to reload!"

"Aye/Yes, ma'am!" Pvt. Silva and Cpl. Karpatkadzki barked their affirmatives, the corporal complementing his words with more rounds fired down range as the red striped soldier began the lengthy process of reloading his belt fed weapon. Lt. Tormenta dumped the magazines of her pistols as she turned to Pvt. Mamemochi, her lips pursed at their current situation.

"Akako, I need you to cover me while I check on Sgt. Jaffa and miss Xiao Long! Ready!?" The lieutenant punctuated her orders with two flicks of her thumbs, rechambering dust rounds into her pistols. Pvt. Mamemochi spat her wad of gum onto the pavement, before she answered.

"Yes, lieutenant." She nodded, her rifle shouldered and aimed down range towards the down. Lt. Tormenta nodded at her subordinate's answer, and took a shaky breath to compose herself.

"Alright… bounding!" She called out as she sprinted forward, despite the immediate hail of gunfire that was sent her way as a response. Two bullets managed hit her chestplate, but thankfully her armor and her aura absorbed most of the damage as she took cover behind a modified sports car and began to return fire. Though she did not manage to hit anyone with her shots, she managed to pin down the group that was shooting at her previously, allowing Pvt. Mamemochi the reprieve she needed to relocate next to her.

"Akako, what the hell was that?" The lieutenant reprimanded the red striped private, ducking down and flinching when several bullets shattered the car's windshield before returning several aimed shots in kind, earning a scream of pain for her efforts.

"Sorry lieutenant, my weapon jammed!" The private half shouted in earnest as she slapped the already fed magazine and racked the charging handle on her rifle back, rechambering her weapon.

"Covering!" she announced, before she began to lay down three round bursts from her rifle, scoring two direct hits on two raiders who exposed their bodies far too long and forcing more into cover. Lt. Tormenta immediately sprang into action, sprinting toward her downed sergeant and the younger Xiao Long. Just about halfway across the street, however, she was tackled onto the ground by a large assailant, and her pistols were thrown from her grasp. Despite being dazed by the impact, the lieutenant shifted just in time for a pipe to embed itself into the ground where her head previously rested. In desperation, she attempted to trap her assailant with a triangle hold. Had her opponent been an inexperienced fighter, he would have attempted to pry himself loose from the grip of her legs. Instead, the thug let go of his pipe and used his immense size and strength to pick up the green striped officer off the ground, before slamming her back onto the pavement. Immediately, the lieutenant cried out in pain and released her grip on her assailant's neck. The thug, despite having endured a rather intense chokehold, grinned rapaciously at the helpless nature of his victim, and after taking hold of his discarded weapon, hefted the long, lead pipe overhead. Lt. Tormenta grit her teeth and closed her eyes as the weapon fell down upon her…

* * *

Near the storefront laden sidewalk, Taiyang and his armored ally were almost finished mopping up their foes. The armored interloper ducked under a wild swing of rifle's stock and stabbed their sword into their attacker's gut, the raider's aura barely warding off the full impact of the attack. His small fortune, however, would quickly run out when his attacker decided to slam the bottom edge of their shield into his toes with full force, without the protection of any aura or steel-toed boots. His screams of agony were cut off shortly afterwards when they decided to drive him up into the top off their shield into their chin in a booster assisted uppercut, which sent the thug soaring into the air. Taiyang jumped into the air and, with a thrust of his palm and the appliance of some burn dust, used the airborne man as a living projectile, throwing the poor wretch into his comrades at a high velocity. Looking down, he saw his ally punch their shield into the gut of a woman foolish enough to attack them with a knife held overhead, causing her to eject a large amount of bile from her stomach. Shifting his body, he landed down on the woman's head with both feet, gifting the raider the sweet release of unconsciousness.

The two stood back to back, the center of a violent storm which claimed over two dozen and a half people, many of whom were crippled, bleeding, and in need of immediate medical attention, but miraculously, not dead. Of the nearly fifty raiders who accompanied their leader, only eight remained standing on their feet by their own power. And after witnessing their leader and their comrades being dispatched so swiftly and brutally by a group much smaller than theirs, were shaking in their tennis shoes and about ready to flee in the wake of their gang's destruction.

"We gotta get outta here!"

"We ain't got anywhere to run, though!"

One of the raiders, distinguished by his gunner shades and flat cap, looked around frantically, desperate for an escape route. He did a double take after sweeping the street, and a wicked grin formed on his face.

"Hey peeps, remember what that book boss had us read say about how to run away?"

The other seven craned their heads in other look at what he was looking at, and soon similar expressions started to appear on their faces.

"Hey, good thing the boss lady made you a number two, huh?" one of the thugs commented. Without any further commentary, they all began to sprint down the street, yelling and whooping with crazed excitement… right towards Sgt. Jaffa and Yang.

"No!" Taiyang screamed, but before he could make after the breakaway group, a hand tightly gripped his shoulder, frosty to the touch. He halted and looked at his armored companion, who shook their head and set down their shield to stand. Taiyang watched with horror as the fleeing raiders ran closer and closer to his daughter, who seemed to be frozen, her face framed in the shadows. Then, another shot rang out in the busy street…

* * *

The pipe struck the pavement next to her head, clattering to the cold ground right before its user struck dirt. Lt. Tormenta opened her eyes and let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding out of her chest at a million paces a second as she turned her head to the right and faced her savior. There sat Yang Xiao Long, equally out breath but no longer dazed and confused as she was before. Instead, tears slowly dripped down from her scarlet tinted eyes as she held the bleeding sergeant with the remains of her right arm, while her left arm was raised outward, the barrel of her gauntlet still dribbling smoke. Yang made eye contact with the lieutenant, and with a soft nod, she gently laid the older woman on the ground before taking up a defensive position in the middle of the street. The lieutenant wasted no time in crawling to her fallen NCO, checking over the wounded woman with delicate hands as she attempted to fight her boiling emotional state at the same time. After finding that the extent of her wounds sergeant's was limited to her abdomen, she pressed her hands down above the bleeding entry wounds.

"I'm sorry, miss Arancia, I did it again. I'm so useless… " Lt. Tormenta quietly lamented, her voice cracking in despair. Just as the first of her tears began to leak from the inside of her helmet, a hand weakly grasped her wrist.

"Selma, you silly girl…"

The lieutenant looked down, her vision blurred by tears, but saw that Sgt. Jaffa was smiling.

"You're acting like I got mangled by a pack of Ursas. It's just some birdshot, my child, I've had worse." She made an attempt to sit up, but was held down by the increasingly frantic lieutenant. Instead, she decided to stroke the younger soldiers fingers in a familiar manner. It had an immediate effect on the officer, snapping the woman out from an oncoming panic attack.

"Of all the children we used to visit at the orphanage, we knew you had the biggest heart of them all. Oh, me and Ringo were so disappointed when they told us we couldn't bring you home with us. But that's because you were someone special, weren't you? Someone, valuable…Please, don't let this career turn you bitter to the world, like it did to so many others…" the sergeant trailed off, and for a brief moment Lt. Tormenta believed the sergeant had expired. Before the young officer could devolve to a blubbering mess, however, the sergeant turned her head and pointed at the blonde girl, who was staring intently at the remaining raiders.

"Watch the girl, Selma."

A loud, war cry echoed from down the street, and the lieutenant and sergeant watched as eight figures rapidly advanced towards their position. One ridiculously accessorised raider dared to charge straight at Yang, axe in hand and screaming his lungs out. Lt. Tormenta watched with growing apprehension as the man rapidly approached her, his axe prepared to fall down in an overhead swing, while Yang continued to hold her ground, her head hanging low.

Then, just as the thug got within spitting distance to the younger Xiao Long, he was sent flying backwards, his glasses shattered and face morphed into a giant bruise. The seven remaining thugs yelped in panic as they threw themselves out of the foolish flyer's flight trajectory, watching as the man was forcefully embedded into the wall at the far end of the street. Picking themselves up, they looked in newfound fear and awe of the blonde teen, standing in the middle of the street with her fist outstretched and smoke sluggishly petering out from the barrel of her gauntlet, her eyes returned to their original hue, and the rage and anguish that once sweltered within her gaze replaced raw determination and defiance.

For five seconds, the whole world held its breath as a little dragon began her first steps on the road to recovery.

Then, with one final cry of desperation, the last seven raiders charged, Yang fell into a defensive stance, unintimidated by the raiders' meagre display of force.

Just before either party could attempt to do violence upon one another, six shots rang out in rapid succession. Soon afterwards, six figures fell to the ground, their bodies frozen solid from the midsection downwards. The last thug nearly face faulted from seeing her comrades stopped dead cold behind her, and skittered to a halt, right in front of Yang. The young woman raised an eyed the female thug up and down, visibly unamused, and raised an eyebrow. The thug, suffering from a combination of shock, fatigue, and terror, offered a sheepish grin and shrug, before curling into a ball on the ground at the blonde's feet. With a snort of amusement, Yang looked up and towards her distant savior.

Gone in their right hand was their short sword, in its place was a long barrelled silver plated revolver held at the hip, left hand hovered over the hammer, and barrel lazily puffing smoke. Shifting their hands, they unhinged the revolver open, exposing the cylinder attached underneath the barrel, and with a sleight of their right hand, produced a full speedloader and began to reload their weapon. Behind them, her father pounded his fist on their shoulder plates and began to talk animatedly, to which the stranger turned their head in response, bathing her father with a rapidly fading orange light. Their weapon reloaded, they flicked the barrel and cylinder back into place before pressing another switch on the grip of the revolver, and the weapon began to fold and unfold, reverting itself back into its original sword form. After giving the sword a quick look around, they sheathed it at their hip and moved to pick up their shield, only to stop when Taiyang approached them with their shield in the grasp of both of his arms, albeit with some difficulty. Curious as to what her father and their momentary ally was talking about, Yang slowly approached the two.

"...how do you carry this thing around with you, it weighs more than a bag of bowling balls!"

"..." The orange light had fully faded at this point.

"..."

"..."

"...You don't talk much, do you?"

"..."

Before her father could demonstrate the social aptitude of a similar tall, blonde and scraggly wannabe hero, his eyes widened as he saw his daughter over the silent stranger's shoulder. Handing the shield over, he quickly maneuvered his way around his ally before running full sprint towards Yang, who grunted when he nearly lifted her off the ground with how fast he was going when he enveloped her in a full embrace. Just as soon as Taiyang wrapped her in his arms, Yang suddenly felt all of the fatigue she felt during the trip return: physical, mental, and emotional. Her legs felt like jelly, her eyes blurred in and out of focus, and to prevent herself from falling over, Yang wrapped her arm around her father.

"I'm so glad you're alright… " Taiyang murmured softly into her ear, relief clear to be heard.

"'m tired." Yang slurred her words slightly. Taiyang chuckled good naturedly, and patted his daughter on the back.

"You did pretty well for your first fight back, kiddo. I think you've earned your rest."

When the older blonde felt some tears seep down onto his shoulder, Taiyang took that as the response to heft his daughter onto his back piggyback style, and begin to walk back to their group.

What Taiyang wasn't a stranger of were his daughters falling asleep from overexertion and him having to carry them around while they slept. What he was a stranger of was his oldest daughter fainting from fear, anger, and shock.

Just as the words had started to spill out from her father's mouth, Yang watched as the armored stranger crouched down and picked up a ragged doll, which they handed to the girl that they rescued. The girl thanked the stranger with a shy smile, before she ran into waiting arms of an older faunus woman with the same, fluffy ears that she had. Then, they briskly walked toward the pole that they planted in the middle of the road; and with a tug of a string, unfurled the white banner that was rolled under the crossbar.

In the center of the white banner, a blue beast's head tilted upward at 45 degree angle, resting within a blue circle. Despite the change in color scheme and logo design, Yang recognized the symbol which brought on cheers from the local Faunus.

Just as she lost consciousness, the last Yang saw was their face. Underneath the large wolf's head, their head was protected by a helmet, with cheek guards which framed their obscured within the helmet, and the white, blue lined decorated mask that covered their eyes, cheekbones, and nose. The lines on the mask twisted, blue turned into red, and a sinister grin replaced the neutral frown on his face before he drew his sword and swung.

And for what felt like forever, it felt like she still was falling, her arm set alight.

* * *

Snow slowly drifted to frost caked earth, caking all that it touched with a white powdery blanket. As Yang came to, one of the first things that she noticed was the field of sweat scented yellow grass blades.

Yang blinked slowly, then craned her head upwards.

Apart from the uniform layer of snow that was beginning to settle on every semi-level surface, there were two bird shaped lumps, standing erect on a low, white concrete wall. Behind this wall was another wall, twice as high. And behind that wall was another wall, twice as high. This feature repeated itself several times over. In the distance, a voice echoed electronically, parroted shortly afterwards by a chorus of quieter, but shriller voices.

"Ah, geez that's a lot of stairs…Oh, you're awake!" Taiyang made a firm grip on Yang's arm, and he took a knee.

"You feeling better, champ?" He asked her, concern evident in his voice as he allowed his daughter to slump to the ground from his back. Despite being asleep for who knows long, Yang did not felt just as exhausted as she did before. Still, she attempted to put a strong front for her father, and gave a small, weary smile.

"Yeah, a little. Are we…?"

Taiyang shook his head, but maintained a confident grin.

"The stairs in front of us lead to Atlas Academy. That's where our host is currently." Taiyang threw a thumb over his shoulder. "But there was a information kiosk back there, said that the Prosthetics and Robotics Clinic is going to be on an off-beat path."

Yang looked around, seeing many soldiers and students walking along the road. But no matter where she looked, she couldn't find any members of her escort.

"Dad, where's Scorpion?"

At the mention of their absent guides, Taiyang's mood visibly darkened.

"They all went to the hospital. Some of them took pretty light injuries, but… well, you know that woman who was keeping you company for most of the trip?"

"Sergeant Jaffa?" Yang said quietly, a pit of fear sending a cold spike into her stomach. Taiyang nodded solemnly, a grimace forming on his mouth.

"Turns out her wounds were worse than they seemed like, so they had to rush her to the hospital as quickly as possible. But dumb thing is, because of the no-fly-zone, they couldn't call in an air ambulance." Her father ended his grimace, a small smile replacing it.

"Thankfully, the people of New Menagerie were grateful to us all for protecting their community. Some of the older folks were actually medics back during the first days of the rights movement, and were able to stabilize her, while some volunteered to create space in the streets for the squad, who went by a borrowed van."

Yang sighed and lowered her eyes, but the tension would not leave her shoulders. Her father, seeing the turmoil his daughter was going through, placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.

"Yang, I know what you're thinking, and I want you to know that you did nothing wrong. The sergeant's a tough woman, she's gonna be fine."

Despite her father's words, Yang could only frown and avert her eyes, not saying a word. Disappointed at his failed efforts, Taiyang sighed and patted her shoulder with one of his hands.

"Alright, well, I'm going to go check in with our host. You wanna come with, or do you want to check out the clinic?"

Yang weighed her option very briefly.

"No offense, dad, but I get the feeling a meeting with our host is going to involve 'a tour of the facilities' or something… I just want to get my arm fixed up at this point."

Her father opened his mouth, but after a moment of visible thought, closed it. Instead, he drew her into a hug.

"Alright. I'll be back in a hour or two. I love you, Yang."

"... I love you too, dad."

Releasing his daughter, the older blonde turned towards the large, intimidating stairs, and began the slow, methodical trek upwards. After watching him trudge up the steps, Yang turned and began to walk down the road, towards the clinic. It was a long, winding path, and she managed to lose her way several times due to inconsistent map kiosks. But eventually, Yang reached a point where pavement became dirt, and she knew that she was going the right way.

The path was narrow, surrounded by evergreens covered in fine powder on both sides. If it weren't for the fact that someone had taken the time to clear the path, it wouldn't take much work for someone unfamiliar with the area to get lost. It reminded Yang of the forests back in Patch.

The wind was starting to howl, bringing in a torrent of frost and sleet far more severe than Yang was willing to tolerate, so the blonde increased her pace. It wasn't long until she reached the well lit complex standing in a small clearing of the forest.

The building was built with modern materials, yet it was designed like a single story hovel built a century earlier, looked more like a residential home than it did a professional clinic, what with its tiled roof, chimney lazily puffing smoke, and single wooden door . Indeed, if it weren't for the fact that there was a sign labelled "Atlas Academy Clinic of Robotics and Biomechanics" in front of the building, along with a card reader and button , Yang would have believed that she stumbled into someone's private property. Nevertheless, her goal was sitting there right in front of her, and seeing how the inside was illuminated and there were no signs indicating that the facility was closed, Yang stepped up to the wooden door, and without further delay, threw the door open and stepped through the threshold.

* * *

Yang blinked as she took in the bright, warm interior of the building, The lobby was surprisingly spacious, despite the building's rather diminutive exterior build suggesting otherwise, with a multitude of unoccupied chairs, half-tables with magazines piled on top of one another, even an empty receptionist's desk positioned to the left of the entrance armored with ballistic glass, with a offline monitor fixed above. Further back, there was a hall, which split of into two paths and lead to a unisex bathroom at the end. All in all, it looked like an average, almost empty neighborhood health clinic.

Almost empty, except for two, very familiar people sitting in one of the corner chairs, fast asleep. A masked man with long grey hair, still clad in the same outfit as he wore when they had last met, and a young child with brown, shoulder length hair, a navy blue sweater with purple, horizontal stripes, and two soft looking brown dog ears peeking out from her hair, sitting in her father's lap. Yang approached the two very slowly, both out of consideration for their rest, as well as complete and utter shock at seeing the two at the moment, knowing that when she had left Patch, the two were still on the island. She shook her head and turned to the receptionist's desk. She could ask questions later, and judging by the soft breathing of both man and child, they wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

Seeing a button labelled "Need non-life threatening assistance? Press me!" along with a nearby paper with a disclaimer telling anyone with a life threatening emergency to dial the local emergency service number, Yang pressed the button. The monitor came to life, and a ticket was printed for her to grasp. Yang looked at the small piece of paper, which was blank except for small text stating "You are currently in a queue for an appointment. Your position is : ", and in bold typeface, a number was printed.

93.

Yang looked up at the monitor overhead, and her mood quickly soured at the message currently displayed:

"Now serving : 23."

Yang looked around again, seeing how empty the lobby was, and decided to see what would happen if she just inserted her ticket in at that moment. She placed her ticket underneath the desk's scanner, only to be rebuked by a robotic voice.

"Invalid ticket, please wait patiently for your turn in line. Thank you for visiting us!"

With an angered huff, Yang pocketed her ticket and walked back to the sleeping family in corner. Despite her outrage at the situation, Yang couldn't bring herself to disturb the two from their rest. Instead, she plopped herself down next to the two and crossed her arms. Er, well, as well as she could manage to, at least.

"Now serving : 24"

Leaning back in her chair, Yang reflected on the day's events. She thought about the information Sergeant Jaffa had given her regarding Atlas and its relationship with its Faunus inhabitants, and was especially fixated on the sergeant's words before they were interrupted by the gang of raiders. Her heart then sunk, knowing that her inaction had caused the woman to be greatly injured. Her sorrow slowly became festering anger, anger at herself for allowing her fear to beat her again, anger at the raiders for harming someone she was supposed to be protecting, and anger at the armored White Fang member for making her feel so… weak. Her anger boiled up inside her, and it reached the point where Yang just… deflated.

What was the point of feeling so angry, if she couldn't even do anything useful with that anger?

"Now serving : 35"

Next to her, Gabe tossed in his sleep a bit, gently wrapping his arms tighter around his daughter.

"...weetie… turn off the… T.V…" the masked man mumbled incoherently. In response, his daughter sleepily turned around and hugged around his stomach. Despite the absolute fatigue that she was feeling, Yang couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Now serving : 47"

After reading through her fifth magazine, remarkably an up to date fashion catalogue, Yang realized that the father-daughter duo may have been onto something. Lolling her head to the side a little, she closed her eyes, just for a moment…

* * *

Author's Note: So… yeah. Six months after last update… Disgusting, I know. I really don't have much of an excuse, to be honest. College, work. Everyone has to do that sometime right? … So, yeah… How about that Season 4, huh? What a ride so far… Hey, uh, if you got any criticism, or if you catch any of my mistakes, or you just want to leave a comment, go right ahead.

Thanks for reading, and hopefully it won't take six months next time.


End file.
